A business my ass!
Sure, it makes money; it has employers and employees, unions and labor agreements, wealthy owners and television contracts, but baseball is most definitely not a business. No, it is so clearly much more than that. Its unwritten rules, traditions and history, its warmth, love and closeness to our hearts make it something so much more complex.
Calling baseball a business is like calling Moby Dick toilet reading; you shallow something with immeasurable depth. You reduce something that is larger-than-life to normalcy. Worst of all, you give greedy men a dogma to hide behind when they tarnish this beautiful game.
A story was recently released about Chicago Cubs owner Sam Zell's intentions to sell the franchise. For those who don't know, this is a real win for baseball because it means one of the game's worst men is leaving the sport. His obnoxious, arrogant and rude demeanor is well-documented. In a recent Orlando Sentinel interview, he cursed out a journalist and then threw one of his employees under the bus, calling him an overpaid "motherf--ker."
Check out "Sam Zell" on YouTube. He really is that angry old man who gives out pennies on Halloween, that neighbor who kills your dog for playing in his flowerbed.
But old Sam Zell has decided that it wasn't enough for him to damage baseball's integrity while he owned the Cubs; he felt it necessary to leave a mark on the game even after he's left. So with no remorse, he is committing the baseball equivalent of crapping on the Mona Lisa - he's decided to sell the naming rights to Wrigley Field.
It doesn't matter who buys the stadium or how shameless its new name is. It doesn't matter if it's Fanta Field, Xerox Park or Apple's iStadium. Wrigley is Wrigley. Along with Fenway and Yankee Stadium, Wrigley is special. Wrigley is different. It is more than a sports arena but a historic landmark. It's a place so close to the hearts of so many people. It's the Cubs success in the early 1900s, the curse of the Billy Goat, Sammy Sosa's (medically) magical 66-home run season in 1998, deep-dish pizza and a ball game, and the famous ivy outfield. It's an experience in a seven-letter word.
I know they aren't knocking down the ballpark or moving the team, but this almost feels worse. This is Sam Zell laughing in the face of baseball and Cubs nation. It's almost like he's threatened by baseball's purity and beauty. He seems to refuse to believe that there may be more to this game than profits and losses. In selling Wrigley's naming rights, he's provoking the gods of the American pastime. He is testing his mortality! This man is Anton Chigurh! He is Lord Voldemort!
When questioned about his possible destruction of the sanctity of Wrigley Field on CNBC's "The Squawk Box," Zell replied, "Perhaps the Wrigley Co. will decide that, after getting it for free for so long, that it's time to pay for it."
Later, he added, "Excuse me for being sarcastic. But the idea of a debate occurring over what I should do with my asset leaves me somewhat questioning the integrity of the debate." What a jerk!
I know baseball has always been controlled by groups of extremely wealthy men pulling the strings, but we must find a way to keep these men in check. Too many people care too much about this game to allow its foundation and spirit to be messed with. The 52nd-richest man in America is planning on selling the sacred Wrigley name for a buck. For the love of the game, something has got to give.
Gideon Jacobs is a freshman who has not yet declared a major. He can be reached at Gideon.Jacobs@tufts.edu.
